Youth work

Dehooding the hoodies

Politicians turn their attention to mending social problems. What works?

“WE WERE loud, definitely. But not that loud,” says Dawayne Gordon, comparing his bumpy time growing up in south London with the experiences of today's teenagers. Now 34, Mr Gordon works for the same youth charity that put him on the right path after spells in custody as a teenager. The youngsters he helps now may have an even rougher ride. More are under lock and key and those being arrested are getting younger: the number of under-14s convicted or reprimanded for serious offences rose by a quarter between 2003 and 2006. “They're more quick-tempered than we used to be,” Mr Gordon reckons. “People are joining gangs to find belonging and protection. The family model's got mucked up.”

Deep in the Royal Courts of Justice, Nicholas Phillips has reached similar conclusions. The Lord Chief Justice told The Economist: “The fundamental point is that children who are brought up by loving parents who are themselves responsible don't very often commit criminal offences...If you analyse those who end up in young-offender institutions and look at their backgrounds, you'll find that they aren't coming from solid family backgrounds and some of them haven't effective parents at all.”

Families, once considered beyond the reach of state meddling, are now the focus of much attention. On April 10th David Cameron, the Tory leader, repeated his party's idea that bolstering families can mend what he calls “broken Britain”. The government, too, has become more willing to get stuck in. Delinquent youths used to be tackled by a Home Office plan called the “respect agenda”, which focused on hammering antisocial behaviour and petty crime. Last July that was superseded by a broader and cosier “youth strategy”, run by the Department for Children and more focused on prevention. One minister puts the shift down to the exit from the cabinet of some “1960s liberals” who felt nervous about intervening in families. The Conservatives' inroads in this area probably have something to do with it too.

The question is what, if anything, can make a difference. Many well-meaning initiatives get nowhere: the UK Drugs Policy Commission has pronounced drugs education fruitless, for example, and more sex education has coincided with an increase in sexually transmitted infections. Schools already groan under a curriculum that covers everything from anti-racism to maintaining a positive body-image.

Many youth programmes fail because they are simply repeating the same information, reckons Neil Wragg, director of Youth At Risk, a charity that runs mentoring programmes for teenagers. “There is far too much sheep-dipping—pushing thousands of young people through the same programmes that give them information that is already available,” he says. Youth at Risk's regime involves an introductory session of several days, followed by weekly check-ups from volunteer mentors for a year. The programme is modelled on the “life coaching” more commonly given to pampered company executives. If that sounds nightmarish, look at the results: two-thirds of the 319 London students who were given the programme last year outperformed their predicted school grades. In Northern Ireland, the same scheme was used to rehabilitate young victims of sectarian violence.

Most governments feel more comfortable spending taxpayers' money on punishing louts rather than counselling them. This may be a mistake given that a year's mentoring costs as little as £500 thanks to the use of volunteers. “There's a belief that there is something missing in communities—not enough people, or resources,” Mr Wragg says. “But it is all there if you look.”

Even so, money is always hard fought over and, in its budgeting, government “tends to respond to the most urgent pressures,” says Lord Phillips. That crowds out the funding needed for the preventative work. “If you're spending almost all your available money on meeting the urgent demand, you say, ‘Terribly sorry, we simply haven't got the resources to deal with this.' You can, as it were, get away with it. You are dealing with the utmost urgent problems—but at the expense of what's going to happen later.”